Turn On A Dime - Kade's Turn (23 page)

“Can we get back to what we’re going to do about your little problem?” Kade asked, anxious to move away from the topic of that night in the alley. “What happened in there?”

Blane shook his head. “I don’t know. The sound, the smell, it was making me tense. Then you grabbed me and it’s like I just…reacted.”

Kade considered this. Nodded. “We need to expose you to civilian life again, bro, or you’re never going to get used to it. Until you know there’s not a threat lurking behind every corner, you’re dangerous to me and everyone around you.”

Blane shook his head. “There’s no ‘we.’ You need to take off, go somewhere. I don’t want to do something stupid.”

Yeah, that ship had sailed, Kade thought but didn’t say. “Bullshit,” he said instead. “I’m not leaving you alone. I’m the only one that can stop you when you get like that, so that means I’m not leaving your side, whether you like it or not.”

Their eyes caught and Kade saw something akin to relief flash across Blane’s face, then it was gone.

The drive back to the house was quiet, Blane retreating to his study while Kade flipped open the cell he’d palmed from Blane’s pocket. Scrolling through the contacts, he came across one that sounded promising. No last name, just a first: Todd. Kade hit the button to dial the number, walking into the empty kitchen as it rang.

“Yo, Cap’n! What’s up? Long time, no see.”

Kade frowned, pulling the phone away from his ear to glance at the number. Yeah, he’d dialed the right one. He put the phone back to his ear.

“Cap’n?” the voice asked.

“Yeah, it’s not ‘cap’n’,” Kade said. “Is this Todd?”

“That depends on who’s asking,” the guy said, his voice guarded now.

“I’m…a friend…of Blane’s,” Kade replied. “I’m looking for some more friends of Blane’s. Are you one of them?”

“Why? Is he all right? Is he in trouble?” The anxiety in his voice told Kade he’d hit upon the right guy.

“You could say that,” Kade said. “He just got back, you know, a few weeks ago. I think he’s been having some…issues adjusting to civilian life. Thought I’d look up some buddies of his, see if they might have some good advice for him.”

“Yo, man, you did the right thing,” Todd said. “I’ve been back a year, and it sure as hell ain’t easy, especially at first.”

“Maybe I could bring him to you, just something informal, you know? I thought it might help.”

“Absolutely. I’ll call a couple other guys from our unit, we’ll all meet up, have a few beers, and talk.” He gave Kade the name and address of a bar in Indy. “Bring him tomorrow night,” Todd said. “That’ll give me time to round up the crew.”

“Sounds good,” Kade said. “Thanks.” He felt relieved. God knows he’d do anything for Blane, so long as he knew what to do. This PTSD was like walking blindfolded through a minefield, though. If Blane wouldn’t talk to a professional, maybe talking with other men he’d served with would be just as good.

“We’ll see you tomorrow night,” Kade said. “Seven o’clock.”

“Wait, you didn’t tell me your name,” Todd said.

“That’s right. I didn’t.” Kade ended the call.

The next night, Blane didn’t protest when Kade wanted to go out for dinner. He was tense, Kade could see that, but seemed to trust that Kade wouldn’t let him get out of hand.

Blane looked questioningly at the bar Kade pulled up to. It did look like a dive. Kade checked the address. Yeah, this was the place.

“This isn’t really my style,” Blane said, raising an eyebrow.

“You should branch out,” Kade said, pocketing the keys and getting out of the car. Blane followed suit.

“You figure, if I go apeshit and bust a few things in this place, no one could tell the difference, right?”

Kade laughed at Blane’s self-deprecating joke. At least he wasn’t denying that he couldn’t control his reactions. That was a good sign. “Something like that.”

The inside was as dingy as the outside, just with a soundtrack, since the jukebox in the corner was blaring out AC/DC. Kade spotted a table full of guys and headed that direction. Blane fell into step behind him. Once they were close enough for the men to turn and spot them, Blane’s hand landed heavily on Kade’s shoulder, pulling him to a halt.

“What did you do?”

Kade glanced back at him. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Hey! It’s the Captain! Yo, Cap! Over here!”

Kade recognized the voice as the one on the phone, Todd. He was a big guy, but not the largest in the group. He was waving them over.

“Why do they call you ‘Captain’?” Kade asked. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t wanna know.” He headed toward the table, leaving Blane no choice but to follow.

Todd jumped so his feet, bypassing Kade to reach Blane. “Man, it’s good to see you!”

“Same here.” Blane was smiling, but it seemed forced.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Todd said, turning to the table where three other men sat. “You remember Rico and Sammy? Erik made it, too.”

“You all just happened to be in this particular bar, on this night, at this specific time?”

Blane’s dry question made Todd squirm a bit, and he cast a nervous glance Kade’s way. Stepping up to Blane, Kade turned his back to the table and spoke so only Blane could hear.

“I called Todd,” he said. “You won’t talk to a shrink and you won’t talk to me. I thought you might talk to them. Chances are they’ve been through the same thing.”

Blane didn’t reply and Kade couldn’t read his expression. He shifted his weight and waited before finally saying in exasperation. “Just give it a chance, will you? I don’t want to get shot by my own brother, for chrissakes.”

That got through to him, Kade could tell. Blane didn’t say anything, he just gave a curt nod. Kade turned back to Todd and slapped Blane on the back.

“Yeah, I gotta date with some hot chick, so you have fun.” He pointed at Todd. “Don’t keep him out past curfew, boys, he has to work tomorrow.”

Blane just shook his head, his lips tipping up slightly at the corners. They all watched Kade leave, but he didn’t go far. He didn’t know those guys, even if Blane did, so he stuck around, parked his car in a shadowed lot across the street and kept an eye on the place. It was several hours later before he saw the group come out, Blane getting into a pickup with Todd.

Kade was relieved, and hopeful, because there was nothing Blane could do that would drive Kade away. He was in it for however long it took to get his big brother back to being himself. Knowing that he’d hit upon a way to help him made Kade feel like a hundred pound weigh had just been lifted from his shoulders.

Blane didn’t say much about the meeting, but he started hanging out with his SEAL buddies more often, at least twice a week. Kade kept up his normal routine, making Blane go out and experience civilian life in all its unpredictable forms. Sometimes those nights ended better than others, but each time got a little better.

Six months later, Kade entered Blane’s study one Friday evening. No longer did Blane react by pointing a gun at him. He still tensed slightly, but his reactions were much more measured and controlled. Kade could only admire the strength of will and determination Blane had to retrain himself like that.

Kade plopped down on the leather sofa, propping an ankle on his knee. “So I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said without preamble.

Blane’s brows flew up in surprise. “That’s awfully sudden. Why?”

Kade shrugged. “Been on vacation long enough. Time to get back to work.” The Senator, who’d also been monitoring Blane’s progress, had sent him a plane ticket this morning. The destination was Venezuela and the flight left at seven a.m. tomorrow.

Blane hesitated. “You don’t have to go it alone,” he said. “The law firm could use an investigator. That’d be right up your alley.”

Yes, it would, but his future was already spoken for, Kade thought. Regret whispered to him, but he ignored it. He didn’t regret the choice he’d made, and he’d make the same one again to spare Blane.

“Thanks, but I already have plans,” he said. “I leave pretty early in the a.m. so tell Mona goodbye for me, would you? I didn’t have a chance to tonight.”

“Bullshit,” Blane snorted. “You just hate seeing her cry.”

Kade didn’t reply, just shifted uncomfortably. It was quiet in the room, the weight of Blane’s gaze resting on him felt like the beam of a spotlight.

“When will you be home again?” Blane asked.

Kade shook his head. “I don’t know.” Which was the truth. The airline ticket was one-way. For all he knew, he could end up rotting in a god-awful Venezuelan prison for the next fifty years. All he had to go on was the agreement he’d made with Keaston. Kade had taken the fall when Blane remembered some of that night, and he’d keep taking the fall so long as it kept Blane out of Keaston’s claws.

“Kade.”

Forced to look at Blane, blue eyes met green.

“Thank you,” Blane said. “For being here. For staying. For not giving up on me. I couldn’t have made it without you.”

Kade’s lips twisted in a half-smile. “What else are brothers for?”

The moment grew heavy, so he got to his feet before he did something stupid, like spill his guts to Blane. He’d made a deal and it was time to pay the piper, no matter how much it terrified him.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said as Blane also got to his feet. They shook hands, as Kade preferred.

“You’d better be.” Blane’s voice was rougher than usual and he clasped Kade’s hand longer than was necessary.

Kade cleared his throat. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” he said. “Like marry Kandi, or some dumbass shit like that.”

Blane let out a low chuckle. “Couldn’t do that without you anyway,” he said. “Who else would be my best man?”

Kade rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “That’ll be the only time you see me walking down the aisle, that’s for damn sure,” he tossed over his shoulder.

He cast one last look at Blane, standing by the fire in his slacks and shirt. His tie had been discarded but he still looked every inch the lawyer. Kade found new resolve in that last look at his brother. Blane deserved a good life, the very best it had to offer him, and if Kade could ensure some of that, then he would.

That image of Blane was burned into Kade’s memory, and that’s what kept him anchored in the years to come. The senator had taken Kade and honed him into a deadly killing machine, having him train with men who hadn’t said what they did for a living, and Kade hadn’t dared to ask.

Kade had first killed at the age of ten. He found that it just got easier as time went by. He should’ve known that whatever was inside him, whatever it was that allowed him to feel nothing but ice when holding someone’s life in his hands, wasn’t ever going to change, never going to get better.

The jobs were delivered to Kade in different ways. Sometimes via messenger, other times through dead drops. Payment was sent upon completion of the job, i.e., when the target was dead.

Keaston hadn’t sent Kade many hits over the years, just enough to remind him of the deal they’d made. Eventually, Kade had begun taking on independent jobs, some of them hacking, even as his reputation as an assassin grew.

He’d stayed in touch with his buddy Donovan, who’d been promoted through the ranks in the FBI. Donovan had asked for Kade’s help once or twice, then began bringing more and more jobs to him that the Agency either didn’t have the will or resources to pursue.

It had been years before Kade had been able to tell Keaston to go to hell—hacking into the Social Security Administration and deleting every record that ever existed on the two men who’d died that night—but by then, it was too late. There was no turning back from what he’d become, no redemption from the demons that plagued his soul.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Someone slid onto the stool next to Kade, pulling him from his memories. He glanced around. It was a guy who looked to be in his mid-twenties. A tough-guy, with a brutish face and clothes that could’ve used a trip through a washing machine. He was looking at Kade.

“Ain’t seen you in here before,” he said, and it sounded like an accusation.

Kade didn’t reply. He took another drink of his beer, which was warm now. Ugh. He hated warm beer.

“Hey man,” the guy persisted. “I said, I ain’t seen you in here before.”

Kade still ignored him, until the guy laid his meaty hand on Kade’s shoulder. In a flash, Kade had a grip on his hand, the pinky bent back at an unnatural angle. The guy grunted in pain.

“Don’t touch me,” Kade said. “And ‘I ain’t seen you in here’ isn’t a question, so it doesn’t require a response. Touching me gets a response, but not a pleasant one. Understand?”

The guy’s face was a white grimace and he nodded. Kade released his hand.

“I hear you’re looking for somebody,” the guy said, his tone much more cautious, though his eyes were resentful. “Is that true?”

“Possibly,” Kade replied.

“Mike said he mighta seen your guy. Said you was to meet him behind the Rusty Nail.”

It was what Kade had been waiting for. Anyone shows up on this turf, eventually the man running it is going to find out. Add to it Kade’s persistent questioning today, and it was damn near impossible to miss. If anyone, “Mike” would be the one to know if Bowers had been here and what had happened to him. But trolling the streets asking to meet with the boss usually ended up with somebody in a body bag.